


cotton fleece homes

by lieyuu



Series: solaine's dtss prompt week [6]
Category: Dream SMP (Video Blogging RPF), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Christmas Fluff, Christmas Presents, Family Bonding, Gen, L'Manberg War of Independence on Dream Team SMP (Video Blogging RPF), Traditions, Wilbur Soot is Floris | Fundy's Parent
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-26
Updated: 2020-12-26
Packaged: 2021-03-10 17:40:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 500
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28331019
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lieyuu/pseuds/lieyuu
Summary: Wilbur has to hide a laugh when he can feel Fundy’s blink against the palms of his hands, eyelashes brushing past his heartlines and fluttering. “Just keep your eyes closed,” he tells his son, fond, even as he continues ushering him through the house.
Relationships: Floris | Fundy & Wilbur Soot
Series: solaine's dtss prompt week [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2062098
Comments: 10
Kudos: 62
Collections: Dream Team Safespace Prompt Week 2020





	cotton fleece homes

**Author's Note:**

> I SOMEHOW ENDED UP LIKE THREE DAYS BEHIND DKJFSKDJ SO I'M POSTING THESE OUT OF ORDER
> 
> for day eight of dtss prompt week - **tradition/pajamas**
> 
> don't send this to CCs, don't make them aware of its existence, etc etc. 
> 
> also i know wilbur started going insane post-election. i wrote this at like one am and i genuinely forgot about it until i was already done so like jsut pretend this makes sense kdfjkdf

Wilbur has to hide a laugh when he can feel Fundy’s blink against the palms of his hands, soft eyelashes brushing past his heartlines and fluttering. “Just keep your eyes closed,” he tells his son, fond, even as he continues ushering him through the house.

His _son._ Sometimes it feels strange to call Fundy that, given that he’s only two years younger than Tommy and they’d only met four years ago, but most times it feels right in a way Wilbur is sure it, inevitably, always will.

Fundy grumbles something about wanting to keep his ideals; Wilbur snickers and stops moving. “Don’t open your eyes yet,” he warns, slowly and carefully removing one hand. 

Christmas is a commodity in the middle of a war like this, but Wilbur is determined to make this one a lasting memory for his family. He thinks he’s slipping; some days, all he wants to do is watch it all go to hell, give up on fighting back and let it burn to the ground. Most days, these thoughts horrify him.

But - some days.

Wilbur glances at Fundy to make sure his eyes are closed before navigating himself under the tree, dragging the wrapped box into his laugh. “Alright, Fundy,” he says, smiling giddily to himself. “Open your eyes.”

Fundy opens his eyes warily, suspiciously - it’s almost comical to watch them go wide, then soft with delight, a slow smile spreading across his face. “Are we doing - Christmas?” he asks, hesitant, eyes darting between Wilbur and the tree.

“Yes we are,” Wilbur says cheerily, patting the ground next to him. “Come, come - open your present.”

Fundy goes, obediently - he sits and takes the present Wilbur offers him absentmindedly, glancing around all the while. “Where are the others?”

Wilbur waves a hand through the air. “They’ll be along shortly,” he says. “I figured we could use some father-son bonding time.”

Fundy huffs a laugh and pokes at his present. “Thanks, _Dad._ ”

Wilbur has to admit - while it’s clearly a joke, a mockery of what their relationship could’ve been given more time and less lost years, something in him goes soft and squishy at being referred to like that by Fundy. _It’s the abandonment issues,_ he thinks, mournfully.

“These are pajamas,” Fundy says, baffled voice dragging Wilbur away from his thoughts. “Not that I - don’t appreciate them, but - where did you even get the fabric for pajamas?”

“It’s _tradition,_ ” Wilbur says, pouting about it. “And I got them from Niki. I don’t know where she got the fabric from. My dad used to like giving us new pajamas on Christmas and then forcing us all to wear them and sit in a circle and _bond._ It was terrible, and I loved it.”

“Oh,” Fundy squeaks, something strangely soft in his voice. “So this is - a family tradition?”

“Yep,” Wilbur says, smiling a little sappily at - his _son._ “Go change.”

Fundy stands up, but hesitates. Softly, genuine, he says, “Thanks, Dad.”

Wilbur beams. He’ll gladly fight for this.

**Author's Note:**

> stay safe everyone; comments + kudos much apprecaited


End file.
